


Interruptions

by totalizzyness



Series: 00Q Prompts [30]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic, Sort of PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:12:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalizzyness/pseuds/totalizzyness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Q and Bond are having a very busy week, and can’t seem to get any time to themselves. The two are frustrated by their inability to have any… Alone time</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interruptions

It was shaping up to be a horrendously busy week at MI-6; available field agents were rushing about, training, being briefed, assisting Q branch testing equipment, and any other odd job M wanted them to do. Q branch was in its own state of panic. There were nearly twice as many people in the labs, fiddling with weapons and dangerous substances, it was a health and safety nightmare; Q had pulled one of the minions from their duty to solely fill out ‘accident in the workplace’ paperwork; he had much more important things to be doing.

Having been in since five am and not having anything for breakfast other than a cup of tea, Q decided to treat himself to a lunch break. He left the minions to their work and hid himself in his office, sending a text to Bond to appease him with food. A few moments later Bond burst into the office, carrying a tray of food. He set it in front of Q, smirking.

“You should make more of a conscious effort to eat. There’s not much to you as there is.”

Q shrugged, pushing the food on the plate around with his fork. “No time for eating, I’ve got things to be doing.”

Bond grabbed a chair and dragged it over to Q’s side, collapsing down into it. Q smiled, shifting his legs round to rest them across Bond’s lap.

“So how’s your work going?”

“Highly dull. I’d rather just be on the mission instead of pretending.”

“All in good time. But if you get so much as a scratch on you after all of this training, and I’m going to kill you.”

Bond chuckled, resting his hand on Q’s thigh, rubbing it softly with his thumb. Q smiled, picking at his food like a fussy toddler; Bond loved watching Q, he was a fascinating subject, a beautiful contradiction of swan-like grace and undignified clumsiness. He could glide through a maze of desks and people and various obstacles like he was made for it, and then trip over his feet, or try to push a pull door. He looked young, barely out of school, with wide innocent eyes, but spoke like a wizened old man who’d seen it all. He’d say intelligent things, showing off how smart he was, using words with more syllables than necessary, and then misspell ‘intelligence’ ten times in one document. Bond loved it all.

Q suddenly dropped his fork to the plate with a loud clatter; Bond looked up just in time to find himself with a lap full of Quartermaster. “I miss you.”

Bond grinned, circling his arms around Q’s waist, pulling their bodies flush together. “I know, it’s been Hell living in the bunks, no genius’ to keep me awake with the glare from a laptop.”

“How much longer until you can come home?”

“Haven’t the slightest.”

Q sighed, nuzzling Bond’s neck, pressing several kisses up his throat. “I miss waking you up with a blow job.”

Bond chuckled. “No one misses that more than me.”

“I give good head.”

“The best.”

Q continued littering Bond’s neck and collar with kisses, his fingers playing over the covered skin of his waist, trying to tug away the shirt. Bond could feel his trousers tighten, his cock eager to be let out.

“Would it be unprofessional of me?” Q gasped, his fingers trailing down to Bond’s fly, fiddling to unbuckle his belt. “To suck you off right here?”

Bond’s hips gave a twitch as his zip was pulled down. “Sexual harassment, I think it is.”

Q wriggled down to kneel between Bond’s legs, prying down his trousers and boxers just enough. “You wouldn’t file a complaint, would you?”

“Depends how good you are.”

Q grinned, circling his fingers around the base of Bond’s cock, squeezing softly; Bond let out a quiet groan, his hips bucking at the contact. “You know if it were physically possible I’d suck your brain out.”

Bond chuckled, carding his fingers through his lover’s hair, slipping his glasses from his face. “There’s a lot of talking considering your mouth’s supposed to be quite busy.”

Q let out a quiet snort and wasted no time covering Bond’s cock with his mouth, swallowing around the head. Bond’s head fell back, groaning, twisting his fingers in Q’s curls.

When they’d first started seeing each other, Bond had worried about his rampant libido scaring the younger man away, but Q had proved to be a voracious lover; he’d only leave his computer for a cup of tea or to crawl into Bond’s lap. Q was able to tell exactly what Bond wanted, and how he wanted it; he’d never had a more satisfying lover than Q.

He cracked open his eyes and looked down, Q was fixing him with a hungry stare. Groaning, he fisted Q’s hair and began thrusting into his mouth; Q let out a groan of his own, his eyes fluttering closed.

A knock on the door made both men freeze; Bond looked to the door as Q’s second in command poked his head round.

“Um… Q?”

Bond glanced down to where Q was knelt between his legs, their activities blocked from view by the large wooden desk, looking back to the man at the door. “Nope.” He bit his lip to stifle the noise of surprise he let out when Q resumed, flattening his tongue against Bond’s cock. “Can I… Uh, can I pass on a message?”

The minion looked down at the floor. “Could you tell him that Agent Stewart managed to activate one of the detonators. We have an hour until it goes off but… I thought he should know.”

Q sighed, dropping his forehead to Bond’s thigh. “Goddamnit.”

The minion’s head snapped up, his cheeks reddening. “Uh… sir?”

“I’ll be there in a minute!”

“Right. Of course. Sorry, for… I’ll just go. Sorry.”

The door clicked shut behind him; Q looked up at Bond, his cheeks flushed. Bond forced a smile, tucking himself back into his trousers.

“Right.”

Q groaned, pulling himself to his feet, rubbing his knees. “I’d better go save us all from being blown up.”

—

The couple tried again two days later; Bond jumped out at Q as he was making his way down a corridor, grabbing his wrist and dragging him behind him as he made his way to a supply closet. Q chuckled, letting Bond pin him against the door and attach his mouth. They both fumbled to get each others flies undone, pressing their bodies together when they’d managed it. Q hummed into Bond’s mouth when he felt the warmth of Bond’s cock against his own, the agent’s fingers curling around them both.

“It’s getting unbearable,” Bond grumbled. “I have no privacy, I can’t even have a quick wank.”

Q smirked, ducking his head to bite and suck at the underside of Bond’s jaw. Bond groaned, his head dropping onto Q’s shoulder as he continued pumping his hand. Q tried to thrust into his hand, whimpering into Bond’s neck.

“God… I need you.”

They continued rutting and panting and mumbling until there was a knock on the door.

“Bond!” It was Tanner. “The cleaner told me to tell you she’s not cleaning up whatever mess you two make. Also, must I remind you having sex on government property is prohibited?”

Bond groaned. “Go. Away.”

Tanner laughed. “Absolutely not. You have two minutes to sort yourselves out and go back to work before you’re both suspended.”

Q and Bond sighed, putting themselves away and straightening their rumpled clothing. They stepped out of the closet, Q blushing and looking at his feet, Bond glaring at Tanner.

“Happy now?”

Tanner sniggered. “Quite. Please keep it in your pants, Bond. You can have all the sex you want when you go home.”

“And when exactly will that be?”

“I can’t say.”

“It had better be soon or I shan’t be held accountable for my actions.”

“Whatever. Come on, back to work, both of you.”

Q gave Bond’s hand a gentle squeeze and quickly scurried off to Q branch.

—

The next attempt almost went well. Bond was summoned down to Q branch having been told he was needed to test some equipment. Q was lounging behind his desk, twirling something around his finger, grinning when Bond barged into his office. He stopped twirling whatever it was and threw it to Bond; a set of car keys.

“We’ve just finished outfitting the new Bond-mobile. It needs taking for as spin.”

Bond nodded, slipping a hand into his jacket pocket. “I don’t suppose you need to accompany me, do you?”

Q jumped to his feet. “Of course I do. I need to know firsthand how it performs.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

They both hurried out of the office and down to the garage; Q lead the way over to the new Aston Martin, grinning as he motioned towards it.

“Do you like?”

“I like very much… The car’s pretty good too.”

Q laughed, yanking the door open once Bond had unlocked it. “I’m not sure why I’m laughing, that was awful.”

“You love me.”

“Perhaps. Just get in the car and let’s go before people realise we’re gone.”

Bond laughed, diving into the car, waiting until Q was strapped in before speeding out of the garage. They drove for ten minutes, getting as far from headquarters as they could, keeping an eye open for an empty road to pull over on. Q had quickly abandoned the notion of safety and was leant over the gearbox, seat belt unbuckled, his head in Bond’s lap.

“You’re making it hard to drive.”

“It’s not the only thing I make hard.”

Bond chuckled, carding his fingers through Q’s hair. “You’re not much better than me with the jokes.”

“Just hurry up and pull over. We’re against the clock here.”

Bond eventually found somewhere to pull over and did so, pushing Q’s head from his crotch and shimmied into the backseat. Q followed, straddling Bond’s thighs, slinging his arms up around the agent’s neck.

“You’re going to fuck me, you’re going to fuck me good, and nothing is going to distract us. Okay?”

Bond grinned, making quick work of Q’s clothing, pushing his shirt from his shoulders. “That’s fine by me. I don’t suppose you brought anything?”

Q scoffed, reaching under the passenger seat, pulling out a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms. “Of course.”

They shed as much of their clothing as necessary, their mouths mashing together almost violently. The windows had fogged up, shielding their activities from the outside world. Bond flicked open the cap of the lube, squirting a generous amount onto his fingers, pressing them against his entrance. Q whimpered, dropping his forehead onto Bond’s shoulder.

“Just do it.”

Bond pressed in, reveling in how Q’s body welcomed him, how Q let out a shuddering sigh, his fingers twisting in Bond’s shirt, hanging off his shoulders. His hips canted upwards, his cock brushing against Bond’s bare chest. Bond prepared Q as efficiently and quickly as possible before grabbing the condoms, tearing one open and rolling it onto his cock.

Q let out a quiet whine as Bond gripped him by the waist, his thumbs digging into his hip bones as he was positioned and pushed down onto Bond’s cock, the agent burying his head into Q’s neck, groaning. Q gasped when Bond was fully sheathed, digging his nails into his shoulders, his nails biting into the skin. Bond looked up at Q, smirking, and pulled him into a messy kiss, teeth clashing and tongues almost battling.

“Damnit, move,” Bond grunted once he’d pulled away, helping Q lift up on his haunches before dropping back down. The car was filled with the noises of the two men panting and moaning and grunting, their lips smacking and skin slapping together.

Bond’s phone began ringing down in the footwell beside them; Q huffed but didn’t stop, keeping Bond’s hands glued to his waist. Bond just smirked, swiftly kicking his jacket on top of the phone to muffle the sound of it.

A few moments later Bond’s phone had stopped, but then Q’s phone started ringing. Q paused, taking in a pinched breath, his eyes meeting Bond’s.

“Fucking damnit.”

Bond smirked, twitching his hips upwards enough to make his lover groan, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Answer it. Please. Tell them to fucking sod off.”

Q’s phone was lying on the seat next to them, the screen lighting up with a picture of Moneypenny. Bond smirked, putting the phone to his ear.

“Q’s phone, he’s a little busy right now.”

Eve huffed. “I know, don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. You need to come back to headquarters.”

Q resumed rocking up and down, Bond bit his lip to stop himself making any noise.

“We’ll be back eventually, just give us-”

“No, James! M needs you two back!”

“No! For once this month I’m going to have an orgasm not induced by my own hand!”

Q let out a quiet moan, digging his nails harder into Bond’s shoulders. Bond responded in turn with a grunt, the phone almost slipping out of his hand, until Eve’s voice shocked him back into the real world.

“Oh my God, will you stop shagging whilst I’m trying to talk to you?!”

“Will you stop talking to me whilst I’m trying to shag?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“That’s great, can you-… can you call me back? I need to-…”

Bond quickly disconnected the call and grabbed Q’s hips roughly, slamming their bodies together until they came, panting harshly against each others necks. Bond pressed a litter of kisses across Q’s collar, nipping gently at the skin, rubbing his hips with his thumbs where he was sure there’d be bruises. Q muttered sweet nothings into Bond’s hair until the shrill noise of his phone ringing again interrupted. Sighing, Q reached over and answered, letting himself fall limp into Bond’s arms.

“Bond?!”

“This is Q, as this is his phone,” Q sighed.

“Right. By the sound of your voice I’m guessing you two are finished?”

“Have you ever not had sex for a long time, and then when you finally have it it’s just so… mind blowing?”

Eve coughed awkwardly. “That’s lovely, Q. Get back to headquarters.”

“I’ll need to put some clothes on first.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [好事多磨](https://archiveofourown.org/works/956540) by [baysian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baysian/pseuds/baysian)




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